Rescued, Photography by Sara Atkins Photography.
It has been a crazy couple of days. My sweet husband planned a camping getaway for the long weekend and it turned out to be more of an adventure than we had planned. While on our way to Eureka we found a dog on the side of the road, just outside of the Shasta Trinity National Forest. We stopped and my heart broke. She walked to the front of the car and just stared at us. It was hot and she obviously had not eaten for days. She was emaciated, probably anemic and clearly dehydrated. She was covered in ticks, foxtails and so many mats that that her skin was being pulled. Her paw pads were sore and the nails on her dew claws were beginning to dig into her pads. To top it all off, she was in heat. We were in the middle of nowhere and this poor pup was in serious need of some help.
Puppy bliss, Photography by Sara Atkins Photography.
So, we did what I would hope most people would do and put her in the back of our two door honda civic. This may not seem like such a big deal, but this is not a little dog. This is a great pyrenees. Standing on all fours, her head comes about up to my hip. So really, it was like having a full sized (rather skinny, and hairy) human in the back seat along with all of our camping gear. We were not sure exactly what to do, so we took her to the nearest Petsmart (it was about a 2 hour drive from where we were). The nice folks at Petsmart gave her a shave and started picking out some of the foxtails that were burrowed into her skin and we picked up some doggy essentials. We then started the long drive home with the pup, who we now refer to as Shasta, hanging her head out the window enjoying the ride.
Sweet Soul, Photography by Sara Atkins Photography.
There were no nearby homes to take her to and the shelters were all closed due to the holiday weekend. We decided to go ahead and stop on the way back down and camp so we could give Shasta and ourselves a break from the car. She was great at the campsite, no barking, great with kids, large groups and other dogs.
Shasta, Photography by Sara Atkins Photography.
Exploring the site, Photography by Sara Atkins Photography.
She did really well on the leash and enjoyed exploring the campsite with Charlie. Bay the time we decided it was time to go to sleep she passed out in our tent and snored all night long.
Nap Time with Frankie, Photography by Sara Atkins Photography.
The next day we continued our trip and made it back to our little condo. Shasta got to meet our two fat cats, and they actually go along pretty well. We let her take a nap and I continued to pick foxtails out of her skin, 100 and counting. After a nap we took her for a walk in the dog park and everywhere we went shasta made friends. She trotted through the park and never wandered too far away. After a nice walk we took her back to the condo and gave her a bath, I did not end up nearly as wet as I thought I would. I think she enjoyed the pampering. Then it was another nap and more foxtail picking.
Slumber Party, Photography by Dedie Evanger.
Finally, it was off to Monterey so Shasta could stay with my parents until we figured out what else to do with her. Shasta is one big lady, and while I didn't think it was a problem, my husband insisted that 900 square feet was not enough room for two people, two cats and a Great Pyrenees. Shasta and my niece had a little slumber party on the living room floor. Priya thought she was in heaven, I think Shasta did too.
Going for a walk, Photography by James Evanger.
Finally, Tuesday arrived and I was able to get Shasta to a veterinarian to check for a microchip and call the shelters in Red Bluff. No one was looking for her. We are still waiting to see if a family is missing one sweet dog. The vet pulled out another foxtail from her ear, gave her antibiotics for all of the infection left from the foxtails in her skin and medicine for her ears. I had her tested for heartworm (negative) and she got a rabies vaccine. So now we wait.
Best Friends, Photography by Sara Atkins Photography.
Priya and Sophie are like peanut butter and jam. Each is great on their own, but put them together and you have something special. I remember that feeling as a child, there is something about that connection with an animal that is so comforting. You can see it in the way they play together, the way Sophie protects Priya. It is a connection that is different than what an adult might have with a dog. There is no owner and pet. Just best friends, enjoying a summer day together.
Happy Paws, Photography by Sara Atkins Photography.
I love my cats. I do, but I am not neurotic. Really. Ok, so maybe they get the occasional bath and maybe they get home-made cat food. Stop laughing.
Here is the deal. Little Frankie (the one on the right) has a bit of a tummy issue. The trouble is, he is a kibble addict. This wouldn't be such a problem if his taste buds and his digestive system were on the same page. But alas, they are not. Let me just say, when Frankie has been eating kibble he can clear out the flat in no time. Even Linus (the kid on the left) gives him dirty looks as he exits the kitty box.
So, I have been driven to make their food myself. Since I have been doing this, Frankie has been doing a million times better. No more tummy problems and no more stinky cat box. I have been getting quite a few questions about how I go about making their food, so here it is:
Ingredients:
- 6 lb meat (I use chicken thighs and giblets, or turkey)
- 1 lb chicken liver
- 2 lb chicken heart
- 2 cup water
- 4 eggs
- 800IU vitamin E
- 200 mg Vitamin B
- 4000 mg Taurine
- 1 1/2 tsp lite salt (with iodine)
- 4000mg Salmon oil
- 8 Tb bone meal
Mix everything up in a big bowl and divide into containers. If using thigh meat I do cut it up, I use kitchen shears for this. I feed two containers per day and that is enough for both of the cats. I always keep two containers in the refrigerator thawing the rest is in the freezer. Occasionally they get a whole quail to share as a meal and they are learning to tackle that pretty well. My husband is convinced that they aren't really eating the quail, but hiding is somewhere. As of yet there have been no foul smells to prove his theory. My little carnivores are doing just fine.
disclaimer: I am not suggesting that you should try this without consulting your veterinarian (though it can't be worse than the crap that is in commercial cat food).
If you are interested in learning more and perhaps converting to a home-made cat food follow this link: www.sfraw.com
To Do: Play with Frankie, originally uploaded by sara.atkins.
Frankie is in your in-box. He is patiently waiting for you to come home and throw his hair tie. He is saving up all of his energy. He thought about waiting by the front door like he normally does. He decided it would be a better use of his time to take a nap in a conspicuous place. That is why he is in your in-box.
This is my Uncle Bill. In fact, this is everyone's Uncle Bill. Everyone who knows him call's him Uncle Bill. I have been lucky enough to spend more than my fair share of time with him. He probably has the biggest heart of anyone I know. He has a firm handshake and gives hugs that won't quit. He puddles up pretty regularly and is quick to tell you how much you mean to him. He is the embodiment of love. Uncle Bill likes his martinis dirty his dessert aplenty. Uncle bill is a golfer and a gardener. He is a pilot and a story teller. He is what we should all aspire to be. He is 91 and has a heart of gold.
About a month ago, my world crumbled. I received a phone call that Uncle Bill had an accident. I had no idea what happened but I knew I had to get to the hospital. As it turned out, Uncle Bill had passed out while mowing the lawn. When I arrived at the hospital I was so relieved to see his face. He was ok... but he needed surgery. At 91 years old he went into surgery for a valve replacement and bypass. So I did the logical thing and moved in. My mom, dad, my husband and myself our two cats and my parents dog all moved in to Uncle Bill's house. I worked from his house and we all went to the hospital every day until after his surgery. The day he went through his surgery was nerve wracking, but he made it through just fine. It has been about a month since all of this started and this last week was his first week back home. He went from being bed ridden to walking with a walker. Now he is walking with just a cain and most of the time he just carries it. He is drinking his martinis again. Our Uncle Bill is going to be fine. The doctor says his new heart should last him another 15 years. His heart is working and I can breathe again.